


DBD Smut Oneshots

by MB95



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: DBD, F/M, I felt super burnt out but then I inspired myself with porn, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MB95/pseuds/MB95
Summary: Title is self-explanatory. While I will- and am, I just get burnt out far too easily- prioritize my real stories, this is a backup just in case.
Relationships: Herman Carter | The Doctor/Sally Smithson | The Nurse
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	DBD Smut Oneshots

**Where Are Matters Of The Heart**

**Herman “The Doctor” Carter/Sally “The Nurse” Smithson**

**Treatment Theatre, Léry’s Memorial Institute**

“So, if the mind and the soul both reside in the brain, where do the matters of the heart occur?” Herman questioned in his usually inquisitive, high-pitched telekinetic voice- telepathy granted by the Entity was easier than speaking through the mouth clamps that kept him obedient to it. He was fiddling with a polished electrode, shocking it with his own finger when it seemed to short out in the small device he was building, a device meant to send direct messages into the mind of… One of the unlucky Survivors, though he so hoped to test it on Steve Harrington, the boy was growing too cocky for Herman’s particular liking.

Sally Smithson, the Nurse, was across the table from him, her pillow-case-enveloped head bowed and her breath raspy and faint, as usual. A melodic hum entered his ears as she responded, with the same telepathy he had just spoken with.

“Perhaps in the brain as well. It is who were are, after all.” Herman giggled as a strong shock bounced through his contraption, stronger than was safe for a human mind and would surely cause a slew of problems; motor function disruption, memory loss, personality re-mothering, and possibly- hopefully- some severe form of psychosis, would the subject survive. 

In other words, it worked just as intended.

“Hm. It’s odd, really- we think of ourselves as a being with a skeleton within us, when truly we exist within the skull and simply pilot everything else.” Herman’s glowing white irises flicked up to the woman before him when she took a deep breath. He always loved the way her chest moved. Perhaps not in a perverted way- though she certainly was above average in that manner, he supposed- but instead in a biological, physiological manner. With every raspy, strained gasp, her chest inflated like a balloon with a slow breath, then deflated almost slower, like she was cherishing every burst of air in her lungs. 

When he had first entered the Realm- after being tortured by a henchman of the Entity, as he initially didn’t want to serve some… other being- he had been enamored with Sally. Something about her; her aura of past pain, her distinct breathing, her otherworldly and positively cabalistic telekinesis. At first, it had been interest simply because she seemed like a ghost, something he firmly held a heavy doubt of. But, over time, he realized that she was no ghost, but a real person, a real woman with a real past and real emotions, real _pain_.

And he wasn’t alone. Sally too had taken a liking to Herman. Before the realm, she had convinced herself that some people were impure, unable to see ugliness in the world and therefore becoming ugly themselves. But Herman… He knew of evil. To all sane humans, he _was_ evil. So was she. So were all the Killers that the Entity had under its control. But to her… He was pure, he was capable of seeing impurity, of seeing the ugly that so plagued humans, and executing it with his inventions. It was something she so admired.

They had a calm, amicable relationship. They were friends, no doubt, but it sometimes felt more than that. Sometimes it felt _more_ , so much more the both of them, but both were too… Afraid. Sally hadn’t had a man she had admired so much since her dear Andrew had passed away, and Herman’s only positive encounter with a woman was his mother, and even then they almost never met eye to eye- he considered Sally a miracle. 

For a moment, Herman’s eyes rested on the dark ash marks around where Sally’s eyes would be on her linen case, feeling an unusually stimulating electric shock pinball its hurried way down his spine, creating a quick and quiet giggle. Sally perked up with a rasp at the noise, tilting her head. There was silence as they looked to each other, though Sally through a thin layer of cloth. Tension rose, with Herman’s hands curling to uncomfortable fists as his heartbeat rose uncontrollably. Sally’s hands began fidgeting with themselves as the back of her neck burned with some sort of shame.

“I… What?” Herman asked, so taken away by his thoughts to realize that, a whole five minutes ago, he had been the last to speak. Sally was quiet, gasping hazily and tilting her head curiously.

“What? She parrotted. 

Oh God.

This sexual tension was killing her inside, and she was sure from the way Herman’s bare, strong, wire-laced arms tightened, curled and defined in the low, orangish light that it was killing him, too. Why there was sexual tension was no question; there was an almost teenager-like infatuation they shared for each other, with the amicable anxiety of admission to match. But, the question Sally always asked herself when she felt her core warm in his presence was ‘what do I do about this?’ She had felt things familiar to the tension with her husband, but that had been _her husband_ . She knew _exactly_ what to do about the tension with _him_ , but with Herman? She couldn’t nonchalantly tug on his sleeve and start whispering her naughty thoughts to him!

Could she?

She had considered it.

It was frustrating, the whole situation. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was in love again, if she was going through some sort of phase, if she was just lonely or if she was misinterpreting her own emotions, but she was getting fed up with it. For almost three years, she had dealt with this rationally- wait until she was alone and then do her best to picture her husband doing what… What she longed for _Herman_ to do. And every time she did imagine Andrew, whenever she got close to, well… concluding… Andrew would always turn into Herman, just so his face could tease her as she went off the edge. It was shameful, so much so that she hadn’t dared breathe a word of it to anyone else, not a soul knew of her dirty thoughts.

And Herman was similar, though he held no one else to distract him. Every time he pictured a woman, it was what he imagined Sally to be from what glimpses he had caught. Red, curly, bouncy hair. Pale, warm, supple skin dotted with distinct freckles and kissed with the pinkest and faintest of flushes. Full, alluring lips dyed the deepest and most haughty tone of red. Wide, maternal hips and a full, round-

He cut his thoughts short, now panicking as he began to undress the woman before him in his mind. To distract himself, he rammed the electrode into the palm of his right hand, dimming the lights in the entire institute and creating a mad cackle from him along with a violent sound of arcing electricity. He took the electrode away, appreciating the sizzling ash left in his palm, the thoughts quelled for now- but certainly not permanently.

Sally’s breath caught at the sudden event, but she wasn’t concerned. In fact, it was kind of interesting how his eyes began glowing just a slightly more intense white when Herman shocked himself, how the wires in his arms began to seemingly tighten around the impressive muscles he possessed and how the mad cackle he echoed every time was oddly endearing.

Endearing.

That’s what it was. Sally felt endeared by Herman. Not attracted, not infatuated, not… not _aroused_ , but… Endeared.

Maybe if she repeated that before and after each and every of her trials, she might start believing that… in five year’s time.

**A Few Days Later**

**Killer Campfire**

It hurt. Sally hadn’t been in pain since… Well, before the Realm, certainly. It was uncomfortable, and it burned. Herman was by her side, as were Anna the Huntress, Evan the Trapper and the dog-like Demogorgon, who was nudging her left arm with its head and whining with concern.

Her right arm had a long, bleeding gash parallel to her ulna, with dark crimson blood staining her flesh and an inviscid, orange pus singeing behind it. She had failed, almost brutally, in a trial. Meg Thomas, Adam Francis, Quentin Smith and Jane Romero had made an absolute goddamn fool out of her with distractions, tricks and clever moves the whole time. She had injured perhaps three of them- Quentin, Jane and Meg- but no one had gone down, and it had been the shortest trial Sally had ever been a part of. She knew why it had been such a mess, but she wanted to keep denying it. 

God, this hurt.

Evan’s breath echoed inside his bone mask as he looked Sally’s injury- punishment, he knew- over. He had seen similar injuries back in the mines when his maggots would mishandle their tools or if they were too weak to handle them. It would need stitches but it wasn’t deep enough to cause serious, irreparable injury. But it needed cleaning, God knows what would happen if the Entity’s orange mess were to enter her bloodstream. He sighed and looked to Anna.

“I need you to get Jed and Amanda,” Anna nodded and took off to the blazing bonfire the rest of the killers sat around. There were two, sitting close to each other, that Anna focused on. A small, short woman in a red trenchcoat, black jeans and a pig head on her own and a large, tall man with a beige shirt, dark dress pants and shoes, a yellow apron, a leathery, stitched-up human face on his own. He was holding a gory, sharp-toothed yellow chainsaw and a bloodstained dark-metal sledgehammer. Anna motioned to Sally, Evan and the Demogorgon before the two stood and nodded quickly. The woman in red- Amanda- turned and took off somewhere into the nearby woods and the man- Jed- began approaching them, his tools left in his spot.

“Jed. I need you to hold Sally down, okay? We’re gonna make her better, but it’s gonna hurt some, so I need you to keep her still. Can you do that?” Evan asked the other man. Jed nodded and babbled incoherently. He sat behind Sally and pulled her head down onto his lap. He took a strong grip on her shoulders; strong, but not so much so that it hurt. Amanda returned with a black, scratched metal box. She slid on the ground on her hip to come beside Sally and Evan. Amanda’s small hands leapt to the neck of her pig head, tugging it above her head. Dark chocolate hair, just shades lighter than the dark locks of her mask, waterfalled out around a fair-toned and clear face. Amanda blew a few stray strands from her eyes as she pried the box open. Inside, protected by velvet lining, were a heap of medical supplies- bandages, compresses, disinfecting agents, a needle and a roll of sturdy thread, bandage clips and other supplies. The woman began shuffling through the contents, smiling when the Demogorgon brushed against her arm, gurgling lowly with contentment.

Amanda looked to Sally’s wound, her dark hazel eyes sharp and focused. She drew a half-empty bottle of disinfectant, a soft-looking red cloth, a thick wooden dowel rolled in cured leather, the needle and thread, a roll of gauze and four metal bandage clips. She gave them to Evan, her face straight and quiet. Sally breathed carefully and laid her arm out, her hand shaking slightly. The Demogorgon laid its head on Sally’s chest and gurgled again, nuzzling her with its cold and smooth skin. Herman’s breathing began to shorten. Sally was hurt, and that was something that just… Didn’t happen anymore. _They_ weren’t supposed to get hurt, they were supposed to do the hurting at the Entity’s bidding. This was… treachery. This was cowardice, this was the Entity waging a war with Herman, one that he wasn’t scared to fight, even if he took a torture session for it. He knew the Entity wouldn’t kill him, he almost never let it down.

Amanda moved, clutching the wooden-leather dowel, to move Sally’s linen pillowcase but she hesitated. Sally’s head moved, as if to question the need. But, after a moment of her ragged and pained breathing, Sally’s uninjured hand loosened the tied hem of her case. She hesitantly lifted it just above her lips.

Herman nearly passed out. Or away. He wasn’t quite sure.

What he could see of this woman was beautiful. Indeed, her skin was pale and light, speckled with dots like a bird’s egg. Her jawline was so quaint, so feminine, so gentle, and her lips were plump and full. She had dirt and blood tainting her, but they were nothing to stop her beauty. Her neck was thin and soft, with the muscles and bones protruding ever so softly. With every breath, her trachea bobbed slowly, like a buoy on calm lake waters. Her pink, round, unpainted lips parted with a dilapidated sigh, with an equally pained gasp following before her usual process repeated. Amanda nodded and moved the dowel into Sally’s mouth. 

The injured woman bit down, sighing shortly. Sally nodded to Evan and curled her fists. Herman quickly, without thinking, took one of her hands, pausing her ragged breathing for a moment. They shared a look, but Sally only tightened her hand reassuredly.

“Okay then,” Evan whispered, dousing Amanda’s red cloth in the disinfectant. “Hard, Sally,”

**Another Week Later**

**Disturbed Ward, Crotus Prenn Asylum**

Sally’s arm was fine now- it had been for days- though it still ached and burned whenever the Entity felt she was failing. As of now, Sally was floating around her realm and recalling her life before the Realm. How indifferent she felt, especially compared to her colleagues, about being taken from her previous life. Most of the others despised the Entity for what it took from them, but not Sally. Despite the torture, despite the pain and despite the threats, Sally perceived her new life and her new purpose as nothing but a gift. She had been given supernatural powers. She had been given a second chance at life. She had been given the gift of unpunitive cleansing of impurity, and for that she was grateful. But he had also been given another gift.

The others.

In her past- in _their_ pasts- they had been cursed, diminished because they had the will and the drive to enact justice on the world, justice the general population damned. They were all righteous in their own ways- the Legion, Anna, Danny and the Demogorgon needed better hunting quarry. Max, Rin, Caleb, Adiris, Freddy and Philip had been horribly wronged, by people and by the gods. Evan, Jedidiah, Amanda and even Sally herself killed to protect; Evan killed to protect his father, Jedidiah killed to protect his family, Amanda killed to defend herself and her legacy, and she herself killed to protect the world from evil. But here, in this place, they were free to enact their justice, their judgement, upon the Survivors. It was peaceful, it was serene.

But there were moments of stress and tension, like a few weeks prior. Sally still cringed and felt her neck grow hot when she remembered the electric line she had felt dart between Herman’s eyes and her own in the Treatment Theatre, but that was nothing compared to what had happened when she had first been punished.

The physical contact, the _touch_ . Oh dear lord, the touch! They had touched each other many times before. An amicable pat on the back or shoulder, a comforting handshake, even a comforting brush here and there after a bad trial, but that? A full fifteen minutes worth of bare-skinned contact, of _hand-holding_ ? It was somewhat juvenile to feel this way, she knew, but she couldn’t help but long for the touch again, to long for another touch, a more _intimate_ touch. It was shameful, even wrong to feel this way, right? To feel this way, yet not to act on it. To keep it in one’s mind, in the imagination for a personal and lustful use? Was that not wrong? 

Perhaps it was, perhaps not, but it was cowardice, certainly. Now, she didn’t like to be labelled a coward, but if only she knew… Perhaps she could live with it. But her soul would be tormented, she knew. Not irreparably, not even unmanageably, but it would be a sandbag that sat in the back of her mind, weighing down her mind and breaking her trials even more than they were now. If she failed any more, the Entity would come down on her harder than it did previous.

She needed this off her chest. But every time she imagined doing her, her throat prickled with irritation and dryness, her neck burned satanically and her chest tightened as if the Entity itself had its spidery limbs pierced into her lungs. But her soul needed, begged for it, so much so that her shoulders were beginning to feel heavier, darker, weightier. A raspy breath passed through her as she came to a stop, her gown flowing in the dark fog that permeated her life for the last four years. Her chest tightened again, but this one was decisive. She needed to confess to Herman. She had a deep, secure feeling about how he felt. She was ready to act, she just… Hoped her feeling was right.

God, she hoped.

**That Night**

**Treatment Theatre, Léry’s Memorial Institute**

Herman was still immensely focused on his device, and its purpose was finally coming to fruition. The electrode he had spiked himself in the hand with was now at the base of a device intended to be integrated into Amanda’s ‘reverse bear trap’. Fascinating device, that truly was- an excellent display of applied forces and mechanical engineering. His device would occasionally and sporadically shock the neck, just above the base of the skull through a needle to the cerebellum. The shocks would interrupt fine motor skills, making the boxes Survivors had to search even more troublesome. He connected his device to its battery, and an intense shock coursed through the needle. A lunatic cackle came from him, the crackling electricity lighting up his dark face in a true mad scientist’s glare. He disconnected the battery, lounging in the scent of electric ash. But, apart from the ambient mechanical sounds of the institute, there was another sound- one that sent an esoterically shocking shiver down his spine.

A ragged, rough gasping breath sounded from the doorway behind him. Herman’s throat tightened and his fists tightened with nervousness. The breathing sounded unusually clear, more so than it usually did.

“Sally,” He communicated. Sally’s breathing altered, as if she was smiling. Herman’s eyes darted along his contraption, but he knew he had to face her, lest the tension between them drive him even further insane. With a shaking sigh, Herman turned, his palms resting at the small of his back against the table.

His eyes widened, despite the clamps, and his breathing nearly ceased..

Sally’s pillowcase was gone, replaced with a clean red sash across her eyes. Her dress was _not_ the one he had seen her in earlier; this was a luscious deep red, with a wave of dark auburn lace on the left hip. Wavy red lace made up the puffy shoulders of the dress, complimented by unfettered, wavy orange hair spilling down across. Her lips were a beautifully dark and rich cherry shade, full and soft. The neckline of her dress was deeper than he felt characteristic of Sally, but the gap created by the woman’s replete and full chest was somewhat- thankfully, as any more of a view would certainly give his heart lethal palpitations- censored by a large brooch, with an orange gemstone pulsing with an emphatic and pulsing energy. The dress itself was tight along her torso, wrapping torturously around her already respectable bosom and beautifully highlighted the curves of her hips.

Sally’s breathing was ragged and strained, but she smiled at his reaction. She swayed her hips to show off the fluttery fabric, but the only thing Herman noticed was just how tightly the dress clutched to Sally’s rear. His left hand rose to the collar of his coat as he felt his chest heat at the sight before him.

“Too obvious?” She questioned, quite perplexingly. Obvious? What’s obvious? The raw sexual appeal of the article? Surely that wasn’t what she meant. Sally simply wasn’t a sexual being. She was a prim lady, if she was… desiring, she’d find a simpler and more discreet way. There was a moment where Herman was wordless, trying to find something, bloody _anything_ in the room to focus on, yet everything led his eyes back to Sally.

Sally floated closer, attracting Herman’s eyes to the sash over her eyes. He seemed… nervous. Had she brought this too far? Had she misread the situation? If she did, that was fine, she just… needed to tell him, if only to free herself of her binds.

“Herman, we need to speak.” His eyes became fixated on her sash very heavily. Her throat suddenly caught at his chilling gaze. His chest was rising and falling with intentionally deep breaths, his eyes seemed wider, his skin seemed warmer. There was a moment, but Herman nodded with wary breath in.

“Alright. What about, my dear?” Sally’s lips curved in a smile at the term. With her telekinesis, Sally lifted two chairs from adjacent rooms and brought them before Herman and herself. She took her seat, looking up to Herman to tell him to do the same. Hesitantly, he did.

“I’ve…” Her thoughts ceased and her head dropped to the floor as she searched for what to say. “There’s been-” there was a harsh moment of suspense “- tension, certainly,” Herman giggled lowly at the severe understatement. Herman’s eyes fell to Sally’s sash, and the electricity only she could create returned. 

“I, uh…” She stopped. The electricity was growing, like a ball of lightning gathering in clouds denser than iron. “I…” Magnetic surges were coursing between them like a bat-out-of-hell pinball. “We are…” The space between them was visibly thick with tension, the air itself was growing opaque. Sally gasped in a breath, and the lights seemed to dim with it. They were staring at each other now, Herman could feel her eyes, and they were growing impatient. Tense. Dangerous.

“We…”

“We both know.”

“I know, but...”

“You have doubts,”

“No. I know, and I say yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.” She rasped, her fingers clenching.

That single word was the crack of thunder the clouds so lusted for. It was the thickest surge. It was the mephistophelian blade to slice the tension. It was the only word that separated them.

But now, no longer. They both knew what they wanted, what the other wanted, and they knew they both wanted it all.

Herman was up from his seat in half of his rising heartbeat, as was Sally, this time on her own two feet- Herman didn’t even know she could still do that- and the playful bob of her fiery hair only came up to just above his broad shoulders. In a proper stance, she seemed so much much smaller. Herman was not only a tall man, but a strong and wide man, which she was in only certain proportions. She had said yes, and he wasn’t one to mind boundaries both of them hated.

Her chest, which he finally allowed himself to fully consume with his eyes, was full and buxom. Now that he paid particularly close attention, there was an ever-so slight redness in her bosom. Her hips were round, shapely and wide, seemingly perfectly wide to fit in his massive hands. Her lips, oh, her lips. So red, so vivacious, so full of life. He desired them nearly as bad as the rest of her. But whatever analytical processes were occurring to him, Sally’s mind had descended into a vile realm of lust. He had her consent and she his, she was going to relay three years of want and need onto this gloriously built man.

His shoulders were so… meaty. Not fatty, but seemingly a mix of girth and muscle. His arms were similar, strong but dense with all kinds of thick matter and interlaced with metal strands that only made his stature more sturdy. His torso, covered by his dark lab coat, was thick and blocky, as if a single block of concrete before her. Her hands rose, but hesitated. Was she sure she wanted this- stupid, she _very much_ did. But did he? He had said yes, but...

“Sally…” He whispered telepathically, his hands hovering around the lace on her shapely hips. He wanted to make sure. He could die a happy man just having looked over her hearty figure, he didn’t want to overstep. She had said yes, but...

“Please…” Was her response.

Herman only nodded.

His hands wrapped and grappled to her strong, ample hips, his fingers gripping and massaging the firm flesh from above the lace and… what was this? Velvet, or silk maybe? No… it was… Satin. It was a satin censor, keeping him from such tantalizing structure. He desired to tear it off like a bad comedy film, but he couldn’t as surely that would incur a wrath- the Entity if not Sally herself. And from the way Sally was beginning to squirm and gasp more raggedly, he could tell she wanted the same.

“Herman, I… I want to do this, ahh… Right,” She gasped as one of his hands moved around the curve of her hip to her rear. Herman’s eyes met her sash, seemingly adjusting to the light and processing her wish. A moment later, his hand returned to her hip, a clearing coming from his throat.

“Yes- yes, of course. I’m sorry, I should’ve wait-” Sally rasped in frustration before taking a steady hold on Herman’s lapels. She pursed her lips apart in a smile before she crushed her crimson lips against his soft. It was somewhat awkward, but Sally quickly developed a system where she would take one of his lips between hers and then switch every few seconds. His stretched lips were possibly the only soft part of his body, and Sally had no idea how and even less care as to why or how. The only thing she really cared about was the electric, tectonic surge that was now petrifying her spine. She could die here and now and be satisfied. Three years of distant admiration, wanting and needing was being sated and there was nothing sweeter to her.

The first thing she thought when their lips finally, _finally_ collided was the most cliché yet most apropos; Fireworks. The most colourful, exciting, powerful and long-awaited fireworks combusted in her brain and she pressed her body further up against his. Her body curved to fit against his, her arms wrapped around his neck and her curves lusted for escape against the dress that suddenly seemed too tight for her curvaceous hips and voluptuous chest. 

The same was for him. Her lips were so plump and thick, soft and tender yet firm and hungry. She tugged at his lips like a winch, and every nip tempted him even more. They stood like that, Herman perched over Sally with a ten-inch height difference and locked together, for quite possibly years. Sighs of utter and distilled satisfaction so fulfilled they bordered on moans echoed from both of them into the Theatre, but they knew they were alone and held no care even if they _were_ being watched. What was occurring between them was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and wouldn’t likely be forgotten at all soon.

Sally’s chest tightened passionately before she parted from Herman with a deep, lustful gasp. His strong, commanding hands were firmly around the small of her back and their hips were resting on each other- though, perhaps luckily- Herman’s quickly-growing and pulsing erection fell down the opposite pant leg. Sally’s breathing was fast and erratic, scratchy and husky, wanting and _needing_.

“That was… I…” She struggled to even explain, but she felt more complete than she had not ten minutes ago. She knew there could be so much more, but if this was it then she could contend happily.

But God knew that she wouldn’t nearly have to, not if she didn’t want to.

Herman panted excitedly, his breath hot on her face and hers on his. His grip was tight but comforting, yet yearned for more. Could he? Would she mind- did she want to? He so hoped yes, but he would respect her wishes, whatever they be.

“We… That was beautiful,” He sighed, peering against Sally’s luscious red sash. Her cheeks were positively aflame and her neck was visibly overheating. Her bosom, constrained against the fabric of her dress and the sturdiness of his own chest, was anxious to burst free, the flesh rising past the lace and satin and seemingly directly into his eyes. He loved her chest, he knew. It wasn’t oversized at all- he estimated somewhere around a D-cup- and the way they seemed so firm yet so soft, so serene yet so desperate, aroused him something undoubtedly unholy. 

Sally smiled seductively as Herman’s eyes drifted to the shadow between her shapely breasts. She had, whether or not it was right, always been proud of her figure. She thought herself attractive, and the attention Herman was giving her was soothing and comforting to her. She pressed herself closer with a careful sigh, pushing more of her supple, silky skin towards him. It was also then that her thigh, still peskily covered in the puffy lace and satin, brushed something on Herman’s. Something that sent shivers up and down her body.

She removed a hand from his neck, slowly scraping her nails down what she deigned an absolute specimen; His thick shoulders, his shadowy and palpitatingly solid torso, his rigid and authoritarian belt line before reaching the breach of his coat, and the beginning of his slacks. There, she found what she seeked, and what she seeked stole more breath than her ragged lungs could take in.

A thick, warm, meaty protrusion along his thigh. It pulsated at her feather’s touch with an electrified giggle shooting from his mouth. She licked her lips subconsciously as simply what she felt through his clothing drove her imagination truly off the deep end. The taste, the heat, the texture, the smell, the _everything_. She had to know. Sally turned her hand so her fingers were perpendicular to the floor, her wrist pointing up and gently kneaded her palm into the erection.

Herman gasped, his eyes moving back at the touch. He would’ve fallen back were it not for Sally’s telekinesis. She paused, allowing him to recover. It was then that she wondered- had he ever done this? The confidence he exuded pronounced yes, but his reactions quite the opposite. Herman’s eyes fell to Sally’s sash again.

That damn sash. Such a tease. The Entity’s influence had influenced his eyes, but he had never even seen Sally’s. Would she be okay with him seeing them? He didn’t figure so, but he had to try. 

“Sally, I…” He paused to collect himself, despite his racing heart. “Your eyes… Could I…” Sally froze for a moment, one of her pale hands aching up to her own flushed cheek. She opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it, as if afraid to misspeak, “If not,” he consoled, grasping her shoulders gently, trying to ignore the prickling erection superheating his thigh and the constrained breasts that lay at the bottom of his vision, “Then worry not, my dear. I will be more than fine with what else you _are_ comfortable giving.” His words truly touched her, in a way she hadn’t truly felt since her husband had passed. Behind the sash, her eyes widened. There were suddenly two paths before her. She wanted to give this man, in whose arms she felt so safe in every part of her, even if they weren’t beautiful. But… what if that ugliness repulsed him so?

No! Not this… indecisiveness again! She wouldn’t tolerate this cowardice, not when she was so close to finally completing what had been missing for so goddamn long!

In a bout of inspired fury, Sally quickly moved her hands behind her head and unbound the velvet sash, pulling her hair in the process. It fluttered down between them, sliding off of her ample chest before drifting down to the floor of oblivion below them.

Herman was stunned. Not by hideousness. But by… Beauty.

Thick, white scars passed down each eye- three on the left and four on the right- dodging her eyes perfectly. They were… _Beautiful_. Not classically- no, by most standards, it would make Sally much less beautiful- but to him… They told a story. Sally was more than just carnal beauty. She had a past, perhaps one where the unspeakable had occurred. But the scars… Symbolistic of her healing and her growth, but the scars weren’t all that was breathtaking. Her eyes themselves.

Good god.

Twinkled. Glittered. The light hit them so beautifully it was like stars. Moisture in her eyes created such a beautiful twinkle he couldn’t look away. They were large, innocent yet wise. Her irises were the richest brown he had ever seen, like the purest Earth even gods were unable to touch. Herman’s mind, for the first time since he could recall, actually blanked. Stopped working. Ceased function simply to appreciate the beauty he and he alone had the liberty to observe.

Sally’s throat bobbed under Herman’s gaze. Was this too much? Did he like them? Did he hate them? A tense feeling grew in her stomach, but when Herman’s hand caressed her cheek, it passed away. He moved closer, closer and closer until his lip pressed against hers, gently this time. The fireworks were still there, but they felt… Richer. Relieved. 

“I love them. All of it. I love _all_ of you,” He whispered, tracing the longest of her scars. For the first time, Sally’s vision was unobstructed. The robust jaw, the piercing eyes. The pure solidity of the man that held her truly hit. But, the feeling of content… Love. She was in love with this man. The feeling quickly grew. Evolved, metamorphosed. The glimmering in her eyes shifted with her emotions, from a bright and spritely sparkle to a foreboding, wanting sheen.

“Herman, I…” Sally felt her body warm as she gripped his shoulders. She felt her chest heat up. She felt her thighs clench. She felt her loins burst into pure flame. She loved this man, she _loved_ this man. _She loved him_ , and now she needed to show him just what her love was. “I need you.”

The words changed Herman’s disposition. His eyes dilated. His muscles tightened. His smile somehow sprouted further dimples. Sally felt her nails rake against Herman’s flesh, her breathing rushed and broken. 

Herman’s strong arm reached around Sally’s back, easily finding the small, metal zipped resting between her sharp, practised shoulder blades. With a swift zip, Sally felt her bosom dip and pool in the loosened cups of her dress. She felt the shoulders tug under her chest’s weight. A sudden flick at both her shoulders and the poofy straps were down her arms. Reluctantly, Sally removed her hands from Herman’s shoulders and flexed them through the straps, though she teasingly ensured that her breasts remained censored. They were certainly more pronounced, the just the very lips of dark, silky areolas peeking above the line. The divet between them seemed now a crevasse deeper than all oceans combined. 

With a single hand across her barely-clothed breasts, Sally moved her other hand to Herman’s chest, slowly and carefully unbuttoning his dark uniform. As she did, more and more of a white shirt with a red tie began showing. She reached his belt, looking up at him through her thick eyelashes. A quick _pop_ and the belt loosened, but not without a caressing squeeze of Herman’s still-beating erection. He sighed shakily at the sensation, as his patience was quickly dwindling. All this teasing and he would barely get into Sally before he exploded. It was now or never.

“My dear,” He said, in a tone lower than Sally had ever heard him before- so low, in fact, that it caught her and her ovaries off-guard. With that simple edge, Herman managed to use his far larger stature to pin Sally to the wall. She gasped and somewhat moaned breathily in response. Herman snaked away to truly remove his belt, allowing it to clatter noisily to the floor. He shrugged off his coat soon after, revealing two thick brown straps attached to his belt that led over his shoulders. He giggled when Sally licked her lips, her breathing rasping a little more than usual. 

She loved suspenders. Andrew wore them, and by God she was convinced she had a fetish of some kind. Keeping herself covered, though just barely, Sally tried to massage one of her breasts through the satin dress, though not to much effect. She bit her bottom lip in agitation and magmatic need.

Herman, losing himself in the moment, tore open his shirt, sending a tidal wave of small buttons to the floor. Sally couldn’t hold it back much longer, and a sultry, positively filthy moan left her thick, swollen lips. She made no move to cover it- she was truly losing herself.

Herman’s chest was tight and thick, like a barrel. His pectorals were rounded and entirely solid, with his abdominals less defined but still prevalent. He was thick, that was the best word Sally’s corrupting mind could fathom. His tie fell perfectly in the seam of his pectorals, like a guiding missile. With a determined, lusting stare, he undid the zipper of his slacks, pulling the button away. From tight, black boxers he drew out what had so long prodded at Sally’s mind and her thigh.

It was thick, like the rest of him. Veiny as well, almost like it was wrapped in them. It was a firm six inches long, and at least two thick. Sally’s throat caught something fierce as she wondered if she could even fit that inside her. Andrew had been large, certainly above average, but this… Oh Lord, would she survive this? 

Not like she really cared. She would give it a sure try.

Herman’s cock throbbed when Sally tried to massage her chest again, still to next to no avail. Herman tilted his head at her before he approached her in but a single step and swept her into his arms. Sally’s head suddenly began spinning. This felt like a smutty romance novel one with no shame would bring on the train; A buxom woman swept off her feet by a barrel-chested hunk.

Oh, she liked that word. 

“My dear…” Herman purred, much to the excitement of Sally’s damp loins. With a simple flick of his wrist, Herman dealt away with the cups still censoring her chest, finally airing her out for him to digest.

Her breasts were soft, malleable and silky, with dark and large areolas and excited pebbles sticking out from them. Her nipples ached with a fiery passion and her thighs were beginning to tremble with just how much heat and precipitation was radiating from her most guarded entrance. Her head was still spinning and she tried fervently to create friction between her legs, just _something_ to soothe the ache, the fire and the tumultuous boil she felt envelope her organs. Like her cheeks and her neck, her breasts were splattered with freckles, like someone had sprinkled cinnamon on her cleavage.

‘ _Remember that for the future_ ,’ He noted.

“Herman…” She sighed dizzily, her chest begging to be touched, to be pleased. “My dress, I need to…” Without any other prompting, Herman took a gentle hold of Sally’s small, practised hand and helped her to her feet. The cups of her dress fell even lower, her firm breasts swaying with her movement. Herman’s penis twitched and pulsed at the erotic sight. A simple nudge and Herman sent the dress flittering the the ground in a mountainous waterfall of fabric. Finally, Sally stood nearly nude before him, her pale pinkened skin bare and warm just for him. The only thing still on her body was something that made Herman audibly groan with both pleasure and frustration.

The thinnest, laciest pair of red panties rested across Sally’s vagina, with a divet in the mound between her taut thighs covered with a damp, sheening spot. Sally’s cheeks flushed red, as did her clavicle and her chest. Her nipples perked up further from her reddening areolas and her pale thighs trembled. Her feet turned inward and Sally put her hands to her sides.

Despite his bare-chestedness and throbbing penis, Herman whispered, “Perfect. You’re perfect, Sally.” She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling lustfully under her thick lashes and white scars. Herman moved back to her, their chests nearly touching. He let his hands caress her hips as he gripped the lacey band of her panties, toying with it ever so slightly. An evil grin crossed his face when he didn’t remove them, gently snapping the band on her hips. She gave a confused look when Herman suddenly toppled backwards into a chair- the same one she had summoned earlier.

“Come.” She did, without hesitation. She sat in his lap, the broad side of his cock resting against her panties and the head against her lower belly. They shared a loving, lusting look as they joined their hands. There was a solemn silence as what was now inevitable settled in comfortably.. ”Sally-” he paused a moment “- My love,” the moniker sent shivers through her and made her only more ready for him. “I want you to tell me what you want. Just what you want, and I’ll do it. We can be gentle as a summer’s day, if you so wish…” Sally licked her swollen, dark lips in preparation.

After all this time, all this teasing, all this tension and all this waiting, she didn’t want gentle. She wanted passion. She wanted heat. She wanted something the others would know. She wanted something she wouldn’t forget. She wanted…

She wanted it. Him. She wanted it his way, his beautiful, sporadic, bat-shit insane way.

“I want you to mark me.” She whispered, grinding herself on his open lap, to which he gasped in both surprise and pleasure. “I’m not… new, but I want you to make it feel new. I want you to…” She hesitated, a half-remembered dream of a voice in the back of her mind telling her to remain proper. But it then struck her; she was in the middle of a black government facility, nearly buck-nude sitting on a man’s lap with his full, attentive erection resting against her… her _pussy_ , and what she wanted from him, what they had done and what they needed to do was far from fucking proper. She needn’t care about being proper. Being proper was just more tension for her, and tension was what she was looking to rid herself of.

By **fucking** the man she loved for the first time. Not making love to. Not having sex with. Not some other flowery, proper term that mad high school English teachers blush and giggle. She was going to **fuck** this man, and he was going to **fuck** her.

Fuck being proper.

“I want you to take me, Herman. Roughly. I don’t… I want the others to know what happens between us. I want them to know, I want them to _see_ what we do to each other. I don’t want to forget this, I want this to stay with me,” She still struggled to find the best way of wording just what exactly she wanted. She scanned through all the dirty talk she had ever used or heard, and it was then she was struck by _exactly_ what she wanted. 

“I want us to show we love each other. I want us to use each other.” Her voice was husked by her usual stridor, but there was something else. Something more primal. Something darker than she had ever appeared, but there was nothing she had against it. If this darkness could help her profess her love and Herman his than the darkness was her closest ally.

If it was possible, Herman’s eyes went wider. His cock throbbed, a gob of precum beading from the eye that was begging for Sally’s touch. After a moment, he stroked her hand and nodded. This couldn’t be happening. The prim, proper Sally Smithson… Fuk it, no reason questioning it. He said what she wanted, and by God, if that’s it.

“Yes, my love.” Sally grinned raspily, slowly beginning to rock her hips in Herman’s lap. “If… If you wish.” His voice was adopted into a tone of dark, so much so that Sally looked into his eyes. They were focused, prepared.

Within a second, Herman had leapt from the chair, Sally in his arms like a bride. Across the room he strode, placing her on one of the tables in the Treatment Theatre. She expected it to be old, but the metal was amiably warm. Herman liked his teeth and suddenly dove against Sally’s throat, nipping and biting voraciously at her jugular. Every clash, every nip caused a jump in her system, jumps that brought forth moan-like mewls that she did her best to censor. Sally tried to rock her hips to get friction, but she only became more and more frenzied as Herman continued his work on her throat. One particularly hard nip brought out a symphonic gasp from her, and the humidity of her flaming vagina against the thin lace was growing too hellish. She choked out another moan, but she gasped again with a passion when Herman’s hands drifted up and down her ribs. 

They suddenly settled onto her bust, one hand pinching and rolling her stiff nipple and the other caressing the breast as a whole, while never stopping his relentless attack on her throat. Her hands raked across his clothed back, but her right moved under his left to reach his chest. It was hairless and smooth, tight and strong.

Herman suddenly gave a tight pinch to her nipple, wringing out a moan intermingled with a strangled, raspy cry. It hurt, just a little by the pleasure her iron-hard nipples were receiving was overwhelming. He cackled at her reaction, but this time, he began palming both of her breasts in slow, torturous circles. She moaned huskily and tried to rock herself on the table, but there was no friction to be found. Her panties were sticking to her thanks to all the juice her body was secreting and the table was smooth as anything. There was nothing.

“Mm, needy, my love?” He asked slyly. Sally moaned in response, moving her hand over her crotch to relieve the pressure in her stomach. But, before she could, one of Herman’s hands fell and caught hers by the wrist. “No, I think I’ll be doing that, Sally.” He spoke definitely. Sally moaned needingly.

“Please, just-” She couldn’t finish, though, as Herman squeezed her breast with the meat of his palm. Again, and again. Sally couldn’t help but throw her head back, her freckled flesh burning up red as her auburn hair fluttered and bounced around. Among the pleasure, she felt a large, warm, heavy _thing_ caress the sensitive, soaking divet that was her burning, clothed vagina. She looked up with desperate, begging eyes to see Herman’s veiny, thick cock resting on the fabric, nestled in between the two lumps that were her swollen, despondent pussy’s lips. He slowly, at a pace slower than any creature imaginable, moved it back and forth, causing him to drone in a deep, gurgling moan. Sally felt her lips twitch against the light friction and the spasm up her back caused her to shiver.

“Please, Herman!” She begged, clenching her fists. This was a game to him, and goddammit if she wouldn’t play by his rules. He giggled at her request and leaned closer, pressing his hot, thick rod harder onto her aching, vehemently soaked vagina.

“‘Please, Herman,’ what?” He was torturing her now, she knew it would come to this and wouldn’t have it any other way. God, she was loving this but her body was beginning to cannibalize itself with stir-crazy horniness. A wire in her brain shorted out, a fuse blew and something snapped.

“Please, Herman, just do it! I give in, please! Just fuck me!” She begged, reaching up and grabbing his shoulders. She stared into his eyes, tears of desperation working into her own. It had been so long, she just _needed_ it! “We both want it, please!” He giggled, but before he could ask, Sally choked out;

“JUST FUCK ME! PLEASE!” Herman went still and silent for a moment. But, just as suddenly, he hoisted Sally up into his arms, wrapping her skilled and strong thighs around his massive torso. Sally gasped in surprise when Herman, unfettered any further, literally _ripped away_ the lace panties. She didn’t care, but when she felt the lava-hot tip of his cock prod her sopping vagina, she almost started crying in relief. Tears welled in her eyes and she opened her mouth to scream ‘yes!’ when she felt her lips pulled apart by his pulsing, thick head. A low, rasping moan came from her, and as he slowly lowered her further, he joined her. 

Sally’s moan rose in pitch the lower on Herman’s cock she fell. It felt like a spike; thinner near the top and thicker near the base, yet it only felt like she was a half-inch down. Her vagina stretched in a uniquely erotic feeling. Andrew… Sod it. This wasn’t Andrew. This was Herman. This was her lover now. This was her life now, and her past was gone.

Herman groaned as another inch passed into Sally. She moaned along, but in a higher pitch. She already felt full, but Herman’s cock just seemed to endlessly slide into her, like they were truly made for each other. Sally’s hands rested on Herman’s shoulders, raking his flesh with her nails as he continuously allowed her to fall onto him. His cock was so through, so veiny and so thick, she felt her vagina stretch wider to accommodate. Thank God she floated everywhere because she would _not_ be walking normally for at least a week. Sally felt Herman’s cock twitch within her, his veins triggering such sensitive spots inside of her she thought she might cum just halfway down. But she was tenacious; she would take all of him, she knew she could do it. She hissed when a particularly pleasurable… Was it painful? She was so delirious she couldn't tell, all she _could_ tell was that, for the most part, Herman was no longer widening- and thank God, Sally’s pussy felt stretched to its limit. Her mind was spinning in circles and hazier than the Entity’s fog, like she was hopped up on all of a hospital’s drugs at once. She didn’t know how deep Herman was anymore, but she was reveling in it. He felt like he was in her intestines, in her lungs, her brain, her heart, her soul, her spirit. Her breathing was growing quick and random, pleasure was overtaking her mind. She was slowly going crazy as the man she loves sunk himself further and further into her. He sounded delirious too, cackling and moaning indiscriminately.

“I-I’m almost there!” He cried jovially, an electric shock permeating the air.

“What- no! Don’t cum yet, please!” Sally cried, digging her nails into his shoulders as Herman’s cock pushed itself through every organ she was thought was perfectly placed. If he had to rearrange her insides to properly fuck her, she didn’t care, she just wanted to feel like this all the time.

“No, no I mean I- oh fucking god…” With a mind-melting final push and a lewd, loud scream of pleasure that rang throughout the entire institute, Herman’s hips finally met Sally’s and he rested fully inside her. Sally came down from her scream, but her head was still just a bunch of fucking white noise. She was close- her pussy was tighter than an elastic band and the pulsing of Herman’s thick, bulging cock throughout what felt like her entire cervix was driving her up the damn wall.

“Oh, god, oh fuck! Just, I… Oh, god fuck! Just, Just keep going- I don’t care what happens, Herman, just- just fuck!” She cried drunkenly, her filters and properness dying as her orgasm built inside her. Herman cackled truly madly as he gripped Sally’s ass as hard as he could. She screamed, there was no stopping it. Screaming was the only thing she could do. It hurt like heel, but the orgasm would be so fucking goddamn worth it, she could feel. Herman carefully began withdrawing, the empty feeling Sally felt causing her to moan dryly, her tongue falling out of her mouth in pleasure.

Then, she had no idea.

Herman began wildly thrusting, keeping a bruising grip on her ass. Again and again and again, Sally felt her pussy fill unbearably full, then empty out so satisfyingly, then over and over. She felt her stomach- which also housed Herman’s shaft occasionally, she was sure- tighten with a molten coil around it. Her insides clenched, her toes curled, her thighs clamped around Herman’s torso, her cunt clamped down severingly tight, her fingernails drew blood and her larynx almost exploded as she screamed.

Then, there was fire.

Her _entire_ body caught fucking fire. An explosion ripped through her that burnt and broke everything. Her voice ruptured. Her muscles went numb, her head fell back painfully. Her tits were bound to explode with all the fire in them. Her pussy, housing Herman’s full and veiny length, was hotter than the sun, melting everything around the two of them. Herman flipped Sally’s head back up and onto his shoulder as she felt her body go limp, her mind simply gone in the wake of **_the_ ** most intense orgasm she ever had, But Herman wasn’t stopping. He was still thrusting, abusing her entrance so well she couldn’t help but moan like a broken toy.

Suddenly Herman buried himself in Sally, causing her to bleed with limp, energyless curses. His testicles swelled and tightened before a blast with pressure unheard of shot boiling cum deep into Sally’s womb, so deep she thought it’d come through the other side and run down her chin.

A final hurrah, Sally choked out a broken sob. It was all she had left. Her body was numb, her eyelids were heavier than steel weights all of a sudden. Her thighs, her vagina and her breasts were just… Gone. They weren’t numb, they felt like another person’s parts. Herman carefully sat Sally on the nearby table, his cockslipping out of her and dpewing a few limp ropes of his yellow-white semen onto her thighs, pussy, the table she sat on and the floor below. Both their breathing was ragged and broken, Sally’s damn near inaudible if it wasn’t horrible wheezing. 

Oh, they would both pay for this in the morning, or whenever they awoke. But Sally… Herman… Neither… **Fucking. Cared**. The tension had been dealt with, and this was… perfect.

Through her telepathy, Sally spoke brokenly.

“I… Love you,”

“Love you too, my dear…” She smiled and leaned forward onto Herman, who was equally exhausted. Through some intense tired gymnastics, Herman helped Sally onto the floor of the institute. He lay her on his chest, petting her auburn hair. Neither noticed or cared about their poor states of dress; Sally was now entirely nude and Herman was without his jacket, his shirt was unbuttoned and, frankly ruined, and Sally still felt his limp penis on her belly. Inside her, she felt the dull, hot churning of his semen, and it was a feeling she would certainly love to get acquainted to. Carefully, Sally tucked Herman’s penis back into his pants and Herman pulled his discarded coat over Sally’s nude form. As his eyes fought to close, Herman also collected the red sash Sally had worn over her eyes, tying it behind her head for her, just in case they were found in the ‘morning’.

“Thank you.” She whispered exhaustedly, clutching her lover close. Vaguely, her rear still had marks from Herman’s grip, but she could see the scratches she had left on his shoulders. Fair trade, she supposed.

“You’re beautiful, Sally.” She gasped at the words, even after the ecstasy faded. Truly, he loved her.

“As are you… And… I guess…” she trailed off with a yawn. “We know where matters of the heart occur.”

Herman giggled tiredly. “Where?”

“Right…” She yawned again, for longer this time. “Right here, baby.”

Herman chuckled at her nickname. He also humoured her exhausted supposition. “I suppose so, my love.” I suppose…” He paused to yawn as well. “Ah… They do…”

**Next Day**

**Treatment Theatre, Léry’s Memorial Institute**

“Now, why in t’e bloody hell d’we havtah look fehr them’ses fehkers?” Caleb Quinn- the Deathslinger- grumbled, ‘ _The Redeemer_ ’ cast over his shoulder and his leg brace squeaking as he and Evan MacMillian, the Trapper, roamed the Treatment Theatre In search of Sally Smithson and Herman Carter, the Nurse and the Doctor. 

“Mm, Entity asked, and I ain’t one to bitch t’her, y’know,” Evan sighed, his cleaver held tightly. Caleb mumbled in concedance and silence befell them again. A few rooms later, Caleb asked Evan,

“What’d’ja bet on?” Evan mumbled,

“I think they slept together. I mean c’mon.” Caleb laughed, as he had too. There was more silence as Evan kicked a pebble into an adjacent room. There was a sound of the pebble striking something and a low male groan. Caleb and Evan shared a look before peeking into the room together.

What they saw utterly shocked them.

Sally was completely nude, only covered by Herman’s coat and a red sash over her eyes. A table nearby had a small dent on it, and the rim facing outward had a dried, clear stain mark leading down to a crusty puddle on the floor. Evan and Caleb shared a look before looking back to the… _scene_. They exchanged a quick fist bump.

“Oh, Freddy’s fuckin’ takin’ it, man,”

“T’at he is, me lad. T’at he is, the poor ba'tard.”


End file.
